


Happiest Memory

by Lefuulei



Series: Apprentice Arya [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Developing Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, LGBTQ Character of Color, Non-binary character, Original Character(s), Other, Pre-Canon, Short & Sweet, Teen Romance, archived from Tranquil-arya blog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 22:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17537690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lefuulei/pseuds/Lefuulei
Summary: “It’s ah... A bit embarrassing and sappy honestly but...Have I ever mentioned how I came across this scarf?”





	Happiest Memory

> Anonymous asked: "55 for the ask arcana meme?"

* * *

 

 

“My happiest memory?” Arya repeats before humming softly, inviting you to settle down in the backroom. The shop wasn’t busy right now, they could spare a few moments. “It’s ah... A bit embarrassing and sappy honestly but...Have I ever mentioned how I came across this scarf?” They smile, motioning for you to sit before pushing away one of the heavy drapes to reveal a small stove and kettle and a few fresh but chipped mugs. Arya begins preparing tea, not even asking if you wanted some.

“No, I haven’t always had it and it’s not just some ordinary fashion statement...” They say, tone amused and wistful. “You see.... When I first came to Vesuvia I was... a bit of a moody brat,” They grinned brightly, cheeks turning a tinge of soft pink for a moment. “It wasn’t too long after my first Masquerade actually.... Aunt Sataya and I had gone to the market but... I really hated the crowds... I think I was just about to turn sixteen then???”

 

* * *

 

Arya huffed, leaning back against the wall next to the carpet vendor and just below the stairs leading up to the upper town. They hated coming out to the market, though Sataya always insisted that they get to know the merchants of the town. She claimed they often had valuable information and not just wares. But what use was that to Arya? Some long winded story about another land wasn’t particularly interesting if they had to put up with being surrounded by people.

With a huffy sigh, Arya leaned back against the wall, closing their eyes and just listening to their surroundings. It’d been a few months since they’d run away from home. Still every so often they’d get the creeping feeling that someone was watching, waiting. But looking for the watchful eyes never yielded any result. Did... Was it possible her mother knew exactly where they were? The thought of never once escaping the cruel woman made Arya ill to their stomach.

But there it was again. Eyes watching them intently. The feeling made the hairs on the back of their neck stand, brow pinching before opening their eyes and looking around. Again, no one was really paying them mind, and it definitely wasn’t coming from behind them--

“Psst,” A soft hiss came from above them. Arya jerked their head up to see who had been calling their attention.

Arya gave a confused blink as above them on the steps a boy around her age was grinning down at them, violet eyes soft with thinly veiled affection.

“Hey! Aren’t you the person who got shoved in my both at the masquerade? You know, when the princess Nadia was paraded through?” He asked, leaning on his elbows against the edge of the step.

Giving a pout as their brows drew together, trying to the think back to the Masquerade. So much had gone on that night, it was hard to remember everything but then their eyes widened they looked away, “Uh... Yes. Sorry about that. I... I knocked right into you. I didn’t break anything, did I?”

The boy laughed, eyes closing in unbridled joy. “No, don’t be. You didn’t break anything. It’s nice to see you again, I wasn’t sure I would...”

Was he.. blushing? It was hard to tell with the sun casting a halo of light around his head of wispy white curls. Arya’s lower lip jutted out in a more stern pout, their own cheeks flushing some as they pulled their shoulders up and looked away, firmly crossing their arms across their chest. “...Okay then.. glad I didn’t break anything.”

Though they couldn’t see it, they could feel the boy’s stare on them, making the flush on their cheeks worse. Then there was a scuffle of feet retreating and Arya breathed a sigh of relief far too soon-- The boy’s footsteps suddenly quick before he had jumped and landed in front of her, surprisingly graceful for one so gangly. It seemed to briefly surprise him as well before he spun on his heels to face Arya. “Sooo....”

Arya tried their best to give him a fierce glare, the color of their cheeks doing nothing to help. “So what?”

“What’re you doing hiding in a corner?” He pried, hands going to interlock behind his back as he walked closer, leaning in almost uncomfortably into Arya’s personal space, a sly smirk on his lips.

Who in the hell was this kid who thought this was okay? Arya huffed a breath out their nostrils, eyes narrowing at the violet hues staring at them. “Not a fan of crowds.”

The smirk turned into a warm grin as he stood up properly again and began fishing about in the burlap bag he had strapped across his back. “That’s funny… I have a friend with the same problem. I was going to give this to him but… Well I don’t think he’d like the color…” He said as he pulled out a long, shimmering indigo scarf, the light catching it’s patterned fabric and making it appear to have a multitude of hues in pink and blue and violet woven in.

Arya rose a brow, regarding the boy with skepticism. “How’s a scarf supposed to help?”

“Other than making you more lovely than you already are?” He shot back with a teasing smile, running the smooth fabric over his hands, the golden tassels glinting in the morning light. “It’s an enchanted scarf. While you wear it, no one will notice you.”

Now it wasn’t that items like that were unusual; mind-me-not spells were fairly common though Arya had not learned a bit of real magic despite Sataya having them help with their potion creations. The odd thing was: Why would some small time magician selling hand painted wares have such a rare item? Though they couldn’t deny their curiosity, “Why should I trust you? I don’t even know your name.”

The cheeky grin returned to his face, as though he’d won some small personal victory. “It’s Asra. Now… I promise I’m not trying anything weird just… please trust me?”

And honestly, what would he do in a busy market? Arya didn’t have anything to lose except maybe some time. With a defeated sigh, they dropped their defensive stand, letting their shoulders drop and pushing off from the wall before holding out their hands expectantly. But rather than simply placing the scarf into Arya’s waiting hands, Asra stepped into their space and looped the lavish fabric about their shoulders before taking half a step back to admire his work, hands resting on Arya’s elbows. He gave a nod of approval and Arya felt heat spread over their cheeks and burn the tip of their ears at the gesture. He had to have noticed, if the way his smile had split into a sly grin, eyes half lidded with a look of fondness shining through was anything to go by. He stepped back, hands sliding from their elbows, down their forearms to their palms--Arya belatedly realizing they hadn’t dropped their hands from when they expected the scarf to be handed over-- before he took their hand in his and turned to lead them into the crowd. “Come on, I won’t let you get lost as long as you hold onto my hand.”

It was honestly kind of amazing. As they made their way through the crowd, hand clasping Asra’s and following him willingly, not a single person seemed to notice them. But more importantly: They didn’t feel the usual anxiousness that came from being among so many people. Arya wasn’t really sure if it was the scarf doing that or… No, it had to be the scarf. Though, watching him weave through the crowds, looking at him as he boldly moved ahead at a steady pace… He had a certain air of easy confidence. It was… a bit dazzling.

When they left the market, stepping in towards the fountain in the city square, Asra slowed enough to let Arya catch up beside him. He was still wearing a charming smile as he slipped his arm around Arya’s elbow, slowly guiding them over to the fountain as he leaned in, an amused glint to his gaze. “See? Told you it would work.”

“...You did…” Arya answered dumbly, a little bit more than shocked by what had just happened. Blinking a few times to snap from their daze, they reached up to start taking the scarf off, “I should give this back--”

“Keep it.” Asra cut in, stopping at the edge of the fountain, turning them so that Arya faced him. “It looks good on you. And I don’t think my friend would like it much anyway. I’ll find something else for him.”

Arya frowned, staring at Asra brows drawn tight in skepticism. “What’s the price for such a gift? Surely you don’t mean to give it away for free.”

There was a twinkle of mirth in Asra’s eyes as his brows lifted, “Gifts usually are given freely. But if you insist on giving me something in return. A name. **Your** name.”

That was a fair trade.

“My name’s Arya.”


End file.
